Chapter 207

The courtroom was packed with an air of anticipation as Rohith called Ayesha to the stand. She walked hesitantly, her eyes darting around the room, occasionally locking on Nitish before quickly looking away. The media frenzy outside the courthouse had only intensified since the revelation of Nitish's cryptocurrency holdings, which had painted a stark contrast between the accused's wealth and the alleged victim's struggle.

Rohith, composed but determined, adjusted his notes and addressed Ayesha with measured professionalism. "Ms. Ayesha," he began, "thank you for taking the stand. I understand this is difficult for you, but I must ask for clarity in the interest of justice."

Ayesha nodded, her expression somber, her eyes downcast.

Rohith approached the heart of his questioning swiftly, knowing that the public and the courtroom alike were hanging onto every word. "You've alleged that Mr. Nitish Reddy assaulted you on the night in question. Can you describe the incident in detail for the court?"

Ayesha hesitated, her hands clutching the sides of the witness box. "He… he slapped me and pushed me," she said, her voice trembling. "He said awful things about me, about women in the industry. And then he tried to…" Her voice trailed off, tears forming in her eyes.

Rohith didn't flinch. "Ms. Ayesha, I need specifics. When and where did this happen? You've stated multiple times that you were assaulted more than once. Can you provide clarity?"

Ayesha's tears began to flow more freely, but her response was vague. "It all happened so fast… I can't remember exactly."

Rohith pressed gently but firmly. "Ms. Ayesha, the timeline matters. According to the CCTV footage, Mr. Reddy was in your apartment for only five minutes. Are you certain that multiple assaults occurred within such a brief period?"

The courtroom fell silent, all eyes on Ayesha as she stammered. "Yes… no… I mean, I don't know. I just know he hurt me."

Rohith paused, letting the weight of her uncertainty hang in the air. "You seem unsure, Ms. Ayesha. Yet you've been unwavering in your accusations outside this courtroom. Can you explain the discrepancy?"

Before Ayesha could respond, her lawyer, Mr. Sen, stood abruptly. "Your Honor, my client is clearly experiencing trauma. This line of questioning is cruel and unnecessary."

The judge gestured for calm but allowed Rohith to proceed. "Ms. Ayesha, this is not meant to cause you distress, but to uncover the truth. Now, let me ask you directly—what do you seek as compensation for the alleged harm caused by Mr. Reddy?"

Ayesha, who had been sobbing moments earlier, froze. The question seemed to catch her off guard. Her tears stopped almost immediately, and a flicker of something else—anticipation, perhaps—crossed her face. She straightened, her tone suddenly more confident. "I believe all of his assets should be transferred to me. He doesn't deserve them after what he's done."

The courtroom collectively held its breath. The shift in Ayesha's demeanor was palpable, her face no longer one of a distraught victim but of someone who had just revealed her hand. The glow in her eyes was unmistakable, a stark contrast to her earlier tears. Murmurs spread through the room, shock and disbelief rippling through the crowd.

Rohith seized the moment. "All of his assets?" he repeated, his voice laced with incredulity. "You're asking for every single rupee of Mr. Reddy's wealth as compensation?"

Ayesha hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding firmly. "Yes. It's the least he can do for ruining my life."

Rohith turned to the judge. "Your Honor, I ask the court to take note of the dramatic shift in Ms. Ayesha's behavior and statements. Moments ago, she was crying, claiming trauma, yet now she speaks confidently about acquiring wealth. Does this seem consistent with someone solely seeking justice?"

Mr. Sen, visibly agitated, quickly rose to redirect. "Your Honor, this line of questioning is irrelevant. My client's emotional state should not be used to undermine her claims. She has suffered greatly, and it's natural for her to feel conflicted about what justice looks like."

Rohith didn't back down. "Conflicted, perhaps. Opportunistic, certainly. The court must question the sincerity of these accusations when they appear to be tied so closely to material gain."

The tension in the courtroom was electric as Rohith and Sen exchanged heated glances. The judge intervened, her voice sharp. "That's enough. Both counsels will maintain decorum. Ms. Ayesha, you may step down."

As Ayesha left the stand, her expression reverted to one of distress. By the time she reached Sen, she was crying again, clutching his arm for support. The performance—if it was one—had reignited the courtroom's sympathy, leaving many uncertain about where the truth lay.

The judge, clearly unsettled by the day's proceedings, announced a recess. "This court will reconvene in one week for the final hearing and verdict. Until then, I advise both parties to prepare thoroughly."

As the courtroom emptied, the divide in public sentiment was evident. Some whispered about Ayesha's sudden shift in demeanor, questioning her motives. Others remained steadfast in their belief that Nitish's wealth and status were being used to escape accountability. Outside the courthouse, the media swarmed, cameras flashing as reporters speculated on the dramatic turn of events.

Rohith, exhausted but resolute, gathered his papers and approached Nitish. "This isn't over," he said quietly. "Her greed is showing, and we'll use that to our advantage. But the fight ahead won't be easy."

Nitish nodded, his face weary but determined. "I trust you, Rohith. Let's see this through."

As they left the courthouse, the weight of the next week hung heavily over them. The battle for truth and justice was far from over, but Rohith knew one thing: the cracks in Ayesha's facade had begun to show, and he was determined to exploit them to reveal the truth.